please...please....dont let me get involved with this game.
Every time I read a thread, or follow a link, my childhood days of Dungeons & Dragons come thundering back, ravaging my adult mind, clinking my chain mailed arms in my ears, and then the enigmatic smell of wood smoke and leather greaves fill my half elven nostrils.
Please don't allow me to fall.
To plummet, from the cliff of WoW into its world, and to land, alone and yet within reach of hundreds of like minded souls would be too much to deal with. The "real life" I lead, a jumble and comforting scrabble of friends, love, new homes and new careers, and a love of WW2 aircraft should be sufficient for any demi-human...and yet my soul yearns for the dark caverns of the Underdark, the feint echoed drip of water upon the stalagmited floors of the shimmering caverns, and the expansive wide open snow-capped mountain peaks, reachable by wing or magic, or the steady trudge of an intrepid explorer's hide bound boots.
The noxious steaming acrid smoke from the Mage's brew, the healing elixir draft of the healers herbs. Theflash of magic, the evil penetrating bite of gentle steel, the life blood and the yielding flesh.
And the skills....oh the skills. The variety of living, and the learning of skills, the fishing and woodcrafts, the hunting and tracking, cooking and armour craft.
I can't....not yet....I just can't. Don't force me.
But if, in a darkened forest glade, you chance upon a cloaked figure, a long bow rested surely by a green clad leg, and a swift dog by the knee..... choose a friendly gesture. A kurt nod, and a swift smile.
Zacharria of Lambourne may venture forth yet. Only time shall tell. Literaly. Time. 'Ave I got enough of the darn stuff?


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